Sacramento, like any other American city, celebrated St. Patrick's Day. Today, a parade made it's way through the streets of Old Sacramento, everyone was dressed in green, Celtic music blared, and shamrocks and leprechauns decorated the doors and windows of local businesses. Thousands came for the celebration, as they did every year.

This included Sonja Wu.

Today, everyone was Irish.

The Beast had come decked out in all green clothing: jeans, hoodie, and one of those plastic party hats that looked like some sort of Irish men's hat she didn't know the name of. The sort of thing Lucky the Leprechaun wore in those commercials.

She was, however, barefoot. Her red Hedgespun boots would have clashed with the look, so she kept them in her bag instead. The weather was warm enough to let her monkey toes go free today.

It wasn't even noon yet, but plenty of people were enjoying the green beer. So was Sonnie. On her second green solo cup, the Steepscrambler cheered for the parade, joked around with fellow celebrants, and used a terrible fake Irish accent whenever she spoke.

The flow of booze had made some folks a little amorous. Today, Sonnie had kissed four men and three women. Given that her hoodie read Kiss Me I'm Irish!, it wasn't surprising that she had racked up an impressive smooching total, and the day was far from over.

Of course, Sonnie had an ulterior motive.

Glamour.

This many mortals, have this good a time? The good vibes generated plentiful emotional energy. The Beast soaked up Glamour all day. She was more drunk on it than the beer. A heady buzz of upbeat attitude and camaraderie.

She had gotten a shamrock-shaped cookie from somewhere and munched on it. This was a rich feeding ground for Spring Courtiers. Too bad it only came once per year.

Someone passed out more free green beer.

Sonnie couldn't refuse.